He's In Ruins
by Hansi And Ernst Sittin InATree
Summary: BIG ANNOUNCEMENT & STORY PLEASE READ! Hanschen's dreams plague him in a most terrifying way. Hernst PLEASE r&r :D X Angsty Hansi


**PEOPLES! I HAVE A BIIIIIIIG ANOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! Some of you may have read my Fanfic 'Remember the Word Forget'…Well, I have a confession to make…I didn't write its…a certain little author who has no confidence in her writing wrote it for me…along with Hanschen-Rocks-My-Socks 'With Only the Stars as Our Witness'…this author, is no other than Hanschen's Postcard. OH YEAH! I'm being deadly serious by the way, I didn't write this either, Postcard did, I asked her to write it for me, and she did, and now I'm telling you that it's actually hers… Anyway…I hope you enjoy this, I certainly did!**

**Disclaimer: Neither I, nor Postcard own SA.

* * *

**

You are used to fear. The way it dulls out the pain with every lash of your father's belt…but never have you felt fear such as this. You force your legs forward, there's no use in running and hiding now, it's too late. The rough hessian of the sack scratches your face and irritates your already swollen eyes. The brackish stains your tears left on your cheeks feel sticky, and you feel thoroughly filthy as the blood and dirt congeal on various parts of your body.

At least you're numb; you're used to being beaten, their punishment means nothing. But never, not once in his entire life, has he been beaten by anyone, and that hurts you more than any physical infliction could.

You've hurt him and you can't take it back. You could argue Melchior's point of it being the fault of the 'Contemptible Bourgeois Society' you live in, and that the prejudice bigots only fear the changes that your relationship has brought on. But really, you know you are at fault. You knew it was wrong, yet you insisted on pursuing him, insisted on corrupting him and tainting his innocence. And why? For release? For some sort of sick pleasure? You disgust yourself even pondering the concept. And if you really ask yourself why, the truth will be more painful than you ever imagined it could be. You seduced him, denied him of his only security blanket, and you never even told him told him you loved him (whichyoudo,ohsomuch) you lead him on, all the while knowing it would never, could never go anywhere. All he would be was an adolescent fling, the forbidden fruit to satisfy your hunger, your relationship was never intended to be serious; you didn't _want_ to fall in love with him. For when your time comes you will become wealthy and successful, with a beautiful house and an adoring wife and wonderful children; the perfect, idyllic lifestyle. It was what was expected of you, it was proper. How else are you to achieve your place in society? Certainly not by having an illicit affair with some silly little boy.

"_Come on Hänsi…please?"_

_He clings to your hand, squeezing tighter around your interlaced fingers. You sigh almost emphatically._

"_It is a most childish thing to do, Ernst"_

_Ignoring your mild admonishment, he pulls you closer to the edge of the meadow, and away from the tree which you were seeking refuge under._

"_But, Hänsi, we could run out and get lost within ourselves, have a moment of freedom. You'll be able to see the sunset ever so clearly from the meadow; we could sit together and watch."_

_His eyes are brimming with sincere excitement, and as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, it is rather endearing. The once milky sky is now cast radiant shade of gold and magenta, the scent of spring air whipping around the cool evening breeze and the downcast of rain. I really was beautiful. Plus, having a wet Ernst on your hand wasn't exactly an unenjoyable fate, either._

"_Please Hänsi…" He stretches up and places a chaste kiss against your lips, the soft fullness lingering momentarily, before he pulls away and averts his gaze, his emblazed cheeks betraying his embarrassment. "For me" he finishes, running his thumb over our conjoined fingers._

Stop it. You preferred it when you where numb. You swallow hard and inhale deeply; attempting to quell the sickening roiling of your stomach. The rope around your wrist chafes, digging further into the already apparent welts. A harsh metallic clang disturbs the footsteps.

The first thing you are met with is jeering. Loud and abrasive to your ears. The utter degradation of it all. You feel calloused hands grab your wrist and push you forwards. Your shin smacks hard against something, before you find your footing and hear the hollow thud of your foot connecting with wood. 1,2,3,4 steps…and then an uproar. Your feel as if you're drowning in sound. Barely any words are distinguishable from the cacophony, but you don't need to hear them to know what they are saying. You are forced to an abrupt halt, and suddenly the new wave of silence is deafening. Your neck is jerked back as the sack is torn roughly from around your head. Your eyes struggling to adjust to the strikingly bright light.

You don't bother to search the crowd. You don't bother to keep a dignified façade. You don't bother because you don't care. You don't care about tainting your family's perfect reputation. You don't care about trying to be decorous. You think then when your about to loose everything, petty little things like pride don't matter anymore. If you just tune everything out, it will feel as if you were never there. Block out the light the disgusted faces, the sounds.

Soft, pitiful sobs reach your ears. The sound, full of depsiar, causes your head to snap to the side. Your whispered _"No"_ is drowned out by the crowd.

He stand there shaking, his frail body heaving as he whole chest is wracked with sobs. His face is covered in cuts and readily blossoming bruises, his now oily hair falling straight over his face in a way you used to find endearing.

You didn't think they would have done it at the same time.

Your cry catches in your throat, turning it into a low chortling sound. He turns to look at you, not seeming shocked at your presence. You wonder how with his wide tortured eyes, tear stained cheeks, and lips swollen from worrying he could still be so painfully beautiful. He keeps your gaze held for a moment longer, eyes flashing with countless emotions, none of which you can register. His lips form the words _I Love You._ You feel your mouth mimicking his. Your only regret is that you wish the first time you told him that you loved him, wouldn't have to be the last.

You feel something being pulled over your head, the tightening of the noose makes you gag. You turn away from Ernst. You can't watch this happening to him.

A man whom you don't recognise walks across the front of the platform, taking purposely slow, calculated steps. You feel your self flinch every time his feet connect with the floor. Your gaze follows him until he's on the other side of the platform, too close to your Ernst. He sneers in his disgust before wrapping his hand tightly around the lever. You turn away quickly but a hand grasps your head and forces it back in the other direction. The unnamed man flexes his hand, and you notice his arms tensing. A filthy piece of white cloth is being tied around Ernst face, dipping into his mouth to form a gag; you feel the same being done to yourself.

"Any last words?" his voice is cold and distant, yet his eyes are filled with a sinister mirth. "No?"

You squeeze you eyes tightly shut, your teeth sinking into your lip. You hear the sound of the floor giving way. This is it…

You start to panic when you feel no difference, but the new uproar of the crowd tells you different. Cautiously, you open your eyes. Ernst is writhing against the rope, body hanging mainly limp, his protest having no effect at all.

Your cry is stifled by the gag as you break free from your captors grip, struggling to reach Ernst as several more pairs of hands pull you back and hold you fast in place. The tears roll mercilessly down your face and your hysteria becomes more frightening as Ernst's body is becoming increasingly less responsive. The man returns hastily to your side of the platform, grabbing violently at the other lever.

"Auf wiedersehen, Herr Rilow, I can't say it was pleasant knowing you"

And he yanks back on the lever with all his force.

You feel the floor give way beneath you.

Hänschen shot up from his sleep, sitting bolt upright. Tears streamed down his face as his lungs struggled to find air. His body was drenched with sweat, his hair clinging to his face.

_Oh God, no…_

He struggled to clamber over his lover's body, but as soon as he had his feet grounded his dashed for the bathroom, slamming the door against the tiles, causing them to crumble insignificantly to the ground. Then he was on his hands and knees, vomiting into the toilet bowl, the salt of his tears mixing with the throw up. After several minutes he turned away, wiping the acrid bile away from his mouth, leaning against the cool tiles, knees tucked tight to his chest. He concentrated on his breathing in an attempt to regulate it.

Ernst came bundling into the bathroom. Blanket wrapped around his midriff, causing Hänschen to recognise his own nakedness.

"Hänschen, what's wrong?" The smaller boy enquired eyes full of concern.

"Nothing of importance...just a bad dream" Hänschen replied, pushing past Ernst.

Once back in his room, he pulled his pyjama bottoms on, then grasping a glass of water with shaking hands; he took sip, swilling it round his mouth, before spitting it out of the open window.

"Hänsi..." Ernst started tentatively, resting his hand on the blond boys shoulder "Please tell me."

"I just did"

"Not properly. What was the dream about?"

"Ernst really, it doesn't matter, just go back to sleep."

"Hänsi, if you were crying, it obviously wasn't nothing"

Hänschen lit the gas lamp, searching the room for anything else he could keep himself busy with. "Must you do this every time, Ernst? If I had wished to tell you, I would have told you, alright?" Hänschen was met with a hurt face, feeling immediately guilty. "I'm sorry, Ernst, but honestly, it's nothing for you to worry yourself with."

Ernst perched on the edge of Hänschen's desk, observing his lover as he carded a hand through his already mussed hair. The boys were then surrounded by an awkward silence that was made even more uncomfortable by the tense atmosphere.

"Why do you never let anyone in?" Ernst ventured tentatively, knowing this was dangerous ground.

"Excuse me?"

"You never let anyone in, you never allow anyone to care. Not even me of all people. Don't you trust me?"

"We're not having this conversation at this time of night, Ernst"

"And why not? Since when do you get to make all of the decisions, Hänschen?" Ernst snapped, sounding more confident than he felt.

"Because, currently, you seem to be inept at making the correct ones"

"I am not inept…I just care!" Ernst voice was increasing dramatically in volume, and he was sure Hänschen's would do the same.

"Don't you have anything better to do with your time than be a nuisance to me?"

"So I'm a nuisance for loving you?" Ernst couldn't keep his voice stable anymore, it faltered with his tears.

"Yes, because I wish you wouldn't!" Hänschen's remark resonated through the empty house, he was suddenly more grateful for his parent's departure. His face was wet and he hated himself for being so weak in front of Ernst.

"I didn't mean that, Ernst"

"You d-did" the smaller boy replied, remarkably calm considering what had just been said. "Just not in the general concept, but h-honestly, I think at l-least owe me the truth…please?"

"Why? It's such a dull topic? There are far more enjoyable things we could be doing? Hänschen was willing to use anything to get of the topic of his dream.

"That's not really appropriate now, Hänsi, is it"

Hanschen turned round and tried to kiss Ernst, anything to shut him up, but Ernst quickly pulled away. "Hänsi, we shou…"

Hänschen, once again cut him off with a kiss, but this once was far different from the other. Before Ernst could even catch his breath, Hänschen's, mouth was on his, hunry, urgent, apologetic and seeking possession with a passion that could not be denied. Hänschen pushed Ernst back further onto the desk, situating himself between his lover's legs, and pressing himself flush against him. Ernst was glad, it was reassurance, re-affirmation of what they felt for each other, and so intense were the feelings aroused that they left little room for thoughts of nay other sort. But still, there was a small part of Ernst's brain that needed to know. So, reluctantly, he pulled away.

"That won't fix everything, you know?"

"Who says?" Hänschen countered, pulling Ernst closer to him. "Why must you question everything I do? Isn't it acceptable for me to just want you? To want to love you? That is, I do…" Ernst had never heard Hänschen so ineloquent before. "I love you, Ernst"

Said boy couldn't help but tear up, and the blond boy gently wiped away Ernst's tears.

"Please don't cry…"

Ernst kissed Hänschen more passionately than he ever had before, wrapping his legs around Hänschen's waist, his hands seeking refuge in the mass of soft blond hair.

"I love you too"

* * *

**Voila! So did you like it, ALL OF IT WAS WRITTEN BY POSTCARD, Except for the last sentence that was underlined, she hadn't quite finished it so I added that on. P.S I typed it up so all the mistakes are mine, all the awesomeness is hers. PLEASE REVIEW, I'LL MAKE SURE SHE READS THEM! P.P.S The reason she didn't say anything about writing our Fanfic is because we swore her to secrecy. Lmao :L**


End file.
